


The Great Tribble Hunt of 1943

by Snooky



Category: Hogan's Heroes, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snooky/pseuds/Snooky
Summary: Sequel to my 2009 crossover, "The Predestination Paradox." The entire space-time continuum could be at risk when the crew of the Defiant unwittingly leaves something behind in Luft Stalag 13. The story will make sense if you haven't read the first crossover, but of course, any reviews for that as well are welcome.





	1. Chapter 1

For 80sarcades, who thought this was a fine idea. Sorry, it took this long, but once I started, it was no tribble at all.

Federation Space Station, Deep Space Nine

 

Stardate: Unknown-

this takes place shortly after two investigators from the Department of Temporal Investigation debriefed Captain Benjamin Sisko on the Defiant's role in an incident involving Kirk's Enterprise, a grain shipment, and a certain lovable species...well...you know the rest. (1)

 

"I'm open to suggestions, people." (2)

There was no budget for another space station, as per Jadzia Dax's suggestion, nor was there any stomach for "spacing" the fuzzy fur balls now finding their way into every nook and cranny of Deep Space Nine. The promenade was almost impassable, and while the residents and visitors were enjoying the soothing qualities of the alien animal-all except the Klingons, of course-the situation was dire.

As the tribbles continued to multiply, all hands, as well as those with other assorted appendages, had to put their minds together to quickly formulate a plan.

"We'd better do something quickly, Captain. Or our life support system could be compromised." That warning came from Chief Miles O'Brien. He had been basking in the afterglow of a successful mission. A mission to beat all missions, he told his wife Keiko. Now, weeks later, he was faced with the infestation on the station, plus he was left wondering how several tribbles managed to find their way onto the Defiant without anyone noticing. As chief of operations, he couldn't help but feel responsible.

Captain Sisko sighed, his elation at coming face to face with the famed Captain Kirk, now thwarted by the thought of a return visit by Temporal Investigations.

"I have an idea, Benjamin," said Dax.

"Go ahead."

The Trill continued. "We may be able to make use of the transporter system and hold them in buffers until we can either find a new planet or until Julian can develop some way to slow down their reproductive cycle."

Sisko looked at O'Brien.

"We would need every available transporter on the station, and the docked ships, sir. We would lose the use of the buffers."

"I may be able to get more industrial transporters up here from Bajor," Major Kira suggested. "Would that help, Chief?"

"I think that would do the trick, Major," replied O'Brien.

And so…the dire situation was eventually resolved. The genetically enhanced doctor was able to discover a way to slow down the reproductive cycle—a form of Tribble birth control, if you will, while the entire staff worked feverishly to store the tribbles into the buffers until a safe haven could be found. After all, bipeds love cute furry things, and no one wants to see them harmed. No one, except Worf, of course. But, he was unilaterally overruled.

It was several months later, not long after the Defiant took another trip into the past, (3) that Dr. Bashir had some time on his hands to wrap up his private logs and reports from his experiences in 1943 Germany. As part of his work, he decided to do a bit more research on the brave men he encountered at the POW camp. After adding a few notes to his medical report on the critically injured Colonel Hogan and Sergeant Olsen, he switched over to browsing photos of the camp uploaded into the system by historical research. Carefully looking for dates, Bashir began with photos taken closest to their visit in April, 1943. Hoping to ascertain his medical treatment's effects, he was specifically searching for glimpses of his two patients.

The first photo, dated May 1943 (the exact day was illegible), showed a casual gathering of the men in Hogan's barracks. Both Hogan and Olsen were present, and Bashir enlarged the image. Sitting back in his chair, he took a sip of tea and focused his attention on the two men. Nodding in satisfaction, he reopened his personal log. "Photo of Colonel Hogan and Sergeant Olsen, dated May 1943. Black and white. After enlarging image, patients show no obvious ill effects, aside from weight loss and slight pallor compared to other men in photograph." He then smiled. "Computer, halt dictation. I see the colonel replaced his dog tags. Computer, pull up next photograph."

Bashir's work continued for a few more minutes until the next set of photos appeared. Hogan and Olsen were missing in the first image, which showed a group of POW's congregating in the compound. "Interesting," commented the doctor as he read the caption, discovering the picture was actually a propaganda photo taken by Germans. "Computer, enlarge image." Bashir took a careful look at the faces of the prisoners and grinned as he recalled meeting a few of these men. There were several men seated on the ground in the rear. "Computer, enlarge and focus on background." He moved forward in his seat. Pausing, the doctor made some notes on his data pad and then took a careful look. "What is that thing behind that corporal?" he wondered as his gaze hit a small round object partially hidden in the background. The sight, although fuzzy, gave the medical officer a not so comfortable feeling in his stomach. At first glance, it resembled tumbleweed, but that would be unlikely, given the location in Germany.

Now curious, and his instincts on high alert, Bashir enlarged and focused on the image. This time, he was one-hundred percent certain the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach was totally warranted. "Oh, no." Turning off the computer, Bashir quickly left the infirmary and made a beeline for operations.

In short order, the entire command staff was summoned to a conference room. Once everyone gathered and took their seats, Sisko pulled up an enhanced and enlarged visual on the large computer. "This, people, is what Dr. Bashir discovered not too long ago."

"A tribble," growled Worf. He turned away from the screen.

"Exactly," said the captain.

The security chief walked over the screen and examined the photo. "Is it alive?" Odo asked.

"We have no way of knowing," Bashir answered. "Right now, it appears that the men in the picture are blissfully unaware of its existence. We don't know what color it is, but it's a juvenile, and unless you stepped on it, you might miss it."

"What I would like to know, is how did it get there?" Sisko leaned over the table and steepled his fingers. "And if it is alive, and it reproduces, there could be consequences."

"If there was a problem, we would be the first to know." Dax smiled at Sisko.

"Computer, who won World War Two?" Kira asked.

"Specify."

"Terran."

"The Allies won World War Two." The computer continued to drone on. Fortunately, all the dates and events matched.

"Captain, if the tribble reproduces and it isn't stopped, the food supply will be in jeopardy. There are already shortages." This warning came from Chief O'Brien. "As to how it got there; my best guess is one of them somehow got trapped in the transporter buffer on the Defiant, and then got beamed down to Germany. Probably during the very last transport we made."

"Whatever the explanation, we need to get it back. Before something happens to our timeline. I don't want the DTI people back here." Sisko's tone was urgent. "Remember, we never told Dulmer and Lucsly about the tribbles in the first place."

Germany, 1943

The little tribble found itself deposited in the woods near an odd-looking tree stump. Cold and hungry, it buried itself under some leaves and instinctively attempted to find sustenance. Fortunately, its instincts steered it away from the unfamiliar fauna. As it slowly explored its surroundings, a cold wet nose pretending to sniff for missing prisoners discovered an unusual smell. Sensing a friendly presence, the tribble rolled a little sideways. A large alien paw dug into the pile of leaves as its handler tugged on the leash.

"Come on Blumchen. Nothing to see here, girl." The tall biped tugged again. "Time to go back home."

The tiny tribble was gently swept up into an alien mouth. It purred as the lifeform carried it across the alien brush and into another environment filled with dirt, dust, and noise.

A few moments later, the alien mouth dropped the tribble on the ground. Other aliens gathered around, sniffing and batting the small helpless creature. They suddenly ran off and the tribble rolled underneath a barrier. Still hungry, it slowly went off in search of food. Eventually, its instincts led it towards a large pile of waste outside of a structure. Finally, it settled on something safe for its system, and it began to eat.

Corporal Randy Brill was in search of an errant baseball when he spotted it rolling across the compound and towards the waste pile behind the mess hall. He jogged over towards the building, and holding his nose, began to look for the ball, finally spying it resting near some potato peelings. As he knelt down to pick it up, he heard a small squeal. Thinking he stepped on a mouse, he jumped back; like many of the prisoners, he was fond of animals and did not wish to hurt the rodent. He bent down again, grabbed the ball, and then set his eyes on what he may have disturbed. His first thought was that he stepped on a child's toy. But as he picked up the small brown furry creature, he could tell it was no child's plaything. "You're alive?" Without thinking, he began stroking the fur, and he began to relax. He turned it over in his hands. "What are you?"

Brill dropped the ball, stuffed the creature into a pocket and furtively and quickly walked back to his empty barracks. He hopped up on his bunk, removed the creature and placed it on the thin lumpy mattress. Cross-legged, he studied it, turned it over several times, stroked it, and then put it down. "You some kind of German animal escaped from the zoo?" he asked. He was rewarded with a trill like sound. "Or an experiment gone wrong?" This worried him. All sorts of nefarious scientists made their way through camp. The colonel and his men eventually thwarted them, but this discovery made him nervous. Berating himself for not thinking, he picked it up, held it to his ear, and listened for signs of a bomb. Nothing.

The door swung open and the rest of his bunkmates noisily swept into the hut.

"Hey, Brill. Why'd you come back to the hut?" asked Foster, one of Hogan's spare team members and the barracks chief. "You forgot the ball." He tossed it to the corporal, who deftly caught it and put it down.

He hopped down from the bunk. "I found something, fellas." He grabbed the ball of fur and walked it over to the table, placing it down in front of his comrades.

The group gathered around and stared.

"That alive?" asked Darvin, a friendly sergeant from Scotland.

"Yes, it's alive. It moves and makes sounds. Unless it's a really sophisticated toy."

"Seriously?" commented one of the men.

"Hey, we have electric trains. Battery operated radios." Foster picked it up and turned it over in his hands. "No seam."

"It has a calming effect," mentioned Brill. "Kind of like stroking a cat."

"It looks like a hedgehog," announced Jones. "Can I hold it?"

Foster handed it over. Soon the unidentified creature was passed around the room; and a noticeable air of calm came over the hut. Eventually, Brill held up his hand. "Um, guys. What if this is a German experiment?"

"Good point." Foster placed the creature back on the table. "Unless it's indigenous to the area, and we've never seen one before."

"Where's its mouth?" asked Baris, an American gunner and a new resident of the camp.

"I think we should show Olsen. Maybe he knows what it is."

"Olsen?" asked Baris.

"The Outside Man, remember?" explained Brill. "He lived in this neck of the woods when he was a kid."

"He's still in the infirmary," Foster reminded Brill. "And so is the colonel." He rubbed his chin. "Orders are to bring anything weird or unexpected to the attention of the guys in Barracks two. So that's what we'll do. Brill, you're with me. You guys hold down the fort."

Rather than risk one of the guards catching them with the creature, the two men decided to use the tunnel system to reach the center of operations. They entered through their hidden entrance, and being careful not to hurt the creature, wound their way through the claustrophobic and tight spur that linked many of the barracks to the main tunnel area. This was where everything happened. The relief radio operator looked up at the two as they passed.

"What are you two doing down 'ere?" he asked curiously, as no one was currently scheduled on any tunnel projects at the moment, and the area used for rescued flies was empty.

"Found something suspicious in the compound," Brill stated. His pocket began to move.

The radioman stared at him and pointed. "Your pants are moving."

Brill removed the creature.

"Oi, what's that?" asked Lurry, the radioman. He bent down and stared.

"We don't know. Brill found it by the mess in a pile of peelings. We thought Olsen might recognize it, but we don't want to barge into the infirmary without checking with Kinch first."

There was a switch located near the ladder heading up to Barracks two. No one wanted any surprises. This notified the men that a non-resident needed to enter the barracks from the tunnel system, and put everyone on alert. Foster hit the switch.

At the sound of the ding, all the men in the barracks looked up. LeBeau immediately went over to the bunk and opened the mechanism. Glancing down he spied Foster and one of the newer prisoners heading up the ladder.

"Foster. What's up?" Kinch asked as he rose from his chair.

"Brill here found something unusual in the compound. Thought you should see it."

"Fascinating," was Newkirk's comment as he glanced at the fur ball now resting on the table."

"Looks like a hedgehog," commented Baker who was visiting. He circled around the table, bending down to get a better look. "Without a mouth, eyes, nose…weird."

"It's a toy." Carter bent down and touched the curiosity. "Maybe Schultz made it."

"Nope. We think it's alive. Hold it." Brill picked it up and handed it to Carter, the barracks' resident animal lover.

Carter stroked it, and looked up. "It's sort of purring." He held it to his ear. "Geez, holding this little fella is relaxing. Just not sure what it is."

Foster, making himself at home, poured himself a mug of coffee. "Could be some kind of experiment. But whatever it is, I've never seen anything like it. That's why we brought it over."

Kinch made like the colonel and paced for a few brief moments. "I think we should pay a visit to the infirmary. Olsen and the colonel need to see it."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had been several days since Hogan and Olsen were taken to the infirmary to recover from an ordeal that still gave them (and Wilson) the willies. Shot while fleeing Gestapo headquarters, the two received medical attention down in the tunnels from Wilson and several temporary visitors to the camp. Initially, two men found in the area were captured by Hogan's men and took up residence at Stalag 13. Later, their colleagues from Naval Intelligence (at least that is what they said) showed up to retrieve their mates, and wound up spending several days in captivity. One of the men, thought to be a medic, turned out to be a doctor, and without warning, he and a female spy spirited Hogan and Olsen away for treatment. The hapless Wilson was taken along for the ride.

All three Americans thought they saw wild and crazy things while they were away, but the three agreed to not speak of what they experienced. Whoever and whatever these strange people were and the agency they worked for, at this point, did not matter. They saved both Hogan's and Olsen's lives. The Kommandant believed whatever story Hogan told him, and all that was left of their ordeal were scars and odd memories. Hogan was missing his dog tags, but fortunately his German captors did not notice, and the metal shop quickly made a new set.

Wilson had just finished checking his patients' scars, and wondering what happened to the stitches, when the door to the infirmary opened, revealing Kinch and two visitors from another barracks. His mind went blank for a moment as he tried to place the man standing behind Foster. Trill, Crill, no…Brill. That was it. Knowing something urgent was up-Kinch wouldn't bring in two men from another barracks for a social call-Wilson whispered, "this better be important. They need their rest."

There was a screen separating the cots from the rest of the infirmary, but the visitors quickly gained the attention of the other patient in the room, a sergeant from Barrack's 19 recovering from a concussion after a fall. He gingerly rolled over. "Hey, fellas."

"Brown, get back down." Wilson ordered, and then sighed as Hogan's voice rang out.

"Wilson, is that Kinch? Who's with him?"

"It is important." Kinch, turning so Brown lost his view of the proceedings, motioned for Wilson to join him over by the door. "Look at this. Show him, Brill. And, yes, it is alive."

"What the heck is that?" Wilson stared, and then pointed to the door. "No puppies here. I don't care how therapeutic they are. Not while there's a chance of infection."

"It's not a puppy. Look." Brill held it out.

"Ah. Fascinating." Wilson picked it up and, without thinking, began stroking the mysterious unknown creature. "From the zoo?"

"We thought maybe Olsen could identify it. Or it could be an experiment," Kinch explained. "You know the orders. Anything unusual or suscipious…"

"Needs to be reported." Wilson nodded. "All right. They're both awake, as I just finished a quick exam."

"Can I come?" asked Brown.

"No!" was the chorus in response.

The tribble purred in contentment as it was carried about. It had grown since eating, and its reproductive system, mysteriously frozen for a while, was gearing up, ready to pop out a new generation. It would happen automatically, and the infants would instinctively eat and thrive.

HhHhH

Kira, despite her best instincts and wish to leave both the tribbles and earth's past behind her, obeyed orders, went to Bajor, and asked her planet's religious leaders to "lend DS9 the orb of time."

They said absolutely not.

After she explained the reasons and rationale behind the request, the vedeks conferred for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

Nervously fingering her earring, Kira tried to explain the consequences for the space-time continuum, and the fate of the  
Federation if history changed. She attempted to appeal to their better nature, but was strongly rebuffed.

Demoralized and defeated, she contacted the space station.

Communicating with Sisko, she recounted her trip. "I even explained what would happen if the tribbles engulfed that part of Germany and how important it was to have a Federation to counter the Cardassians, sir."

Sisko was calmly rolling his baseball over and over in his hands. He seemed bemused by Kira's tale, a fact that aggravated the major even further. "What did they say to that, Major?"

"If history was changed, wouldn't we know it by now?"

"They always say that." Sisko grinned and let out a sigh. "Perhaps a visit from the emissary might change their mind."

Kira smiled. She knew Sisko was reluctant to use his position as the Emissary and his relationship with the prophets, or as many coined them, the wormhole aliens. But when a bit of persuasion was necessary, he jumped right in.

This time, Sisko used the communications network to contact Bajor. Using his experience with the non-linear prophets (or wormhole aliens), and having dealt with one too many trips in the past, plus his calm manner, he was able to secure a loan. Kira was able to take the orb, promising to get it back as soon as possible—actually considering it is the orb of time, maybe a few seconds after she took it…she shook her head, shrugging off the onset of the headache always accompanying talk of time travel, and returned to the station.

Once in the Defiant and safely over 1943 Earth, the on-board crew, consisting of Sisko, Kira, Dax, Odo, Bashir and O'Brien, decided on the next step. Worf, having no interest in dealing with tribbles, had remained on the space station.

"Can you read any tribble signatures, old man?" Sisko asked Dax.

"No luck, Benjamin. If there is only one dead one down there, we won't read anything. Sensors may not even detect one live one. Depending on where it is, there could be interference from a number of things."

"We need to try and reconfigure the sensors. That could take some time." The chief was underneath a console, working on upgrading some of the equipment.

Odo stepped forward. "I can beam down, change into a bird and fly over the camp. Perhaps I'll see something."

"Great idea, Constable. Hopefully, we won't have to send anyone else down there," Sisko said.

Odo beamed down in the woods near the prison camp. He morphed into a hawk, and took off into the sky. Passing the towers, he flew by unnoticed and dropped down a bit to check out the rest of the camp.

HhHhH

Wilson, accompanied by Kinch, Foster and Brill, headed over to where Olsen and Hogan were resting. Seeing his second followed by two men from other barracks, a suspicious Hogan propped himself up on his elbow.

"What's wrong, Kinch?" he asked, knowing the radioman would not have brought these other two men over if something serious had not occurred.

"Hopefully, nothing, Colonel. But Brill here found something strange."

The corporal held out his hands.

Hogan stared. "You came here to show me a duster?"

"It looks like a rolled up puppy," countered Olsen.

"It's alive, sir. But not dangerous. See?"

Hogan took the ball of fluff out of Brill's hands. Immediately, he felt an unusual sense of calm come over his body. Without thinking, he began stroking the thing for a moment, stopping and holding it upside down, and then rotating it. "Fascinating. Where's its mouth? Here, Olsen. Take a look." He tossed it over to the other bed. Olsen deftly caught it, and did the same as Hogan. Rotating it over and over, he finally stopped and began stroking it as well.

"Thought it may be indigenous. That's why we brought it over. You ever see anything like it, Brian?" asked Kinch.

The Outside Man shook his head. "Nope." He sunk back into his pillows-he was still recovering from surgery, after all—and then handed the strange life form over to Wilson. "Think the Krauts have something to do with this, Colonel?"

"A secret weapon?" Wilson laughed. "This?"

"It is strange. Kinch, call London and give them a description. See if they can give you any information. Meanwhile, have someone monitor the coffee pot and Klink's calls, 24/7. Until we find out what this is, we can't be too careful." Although he was naturally drawn to the creature, Hogan was suspicious. After all, it was war.

"Yes, sir. What should we do with it in the meantime?" Kinch asked.

"I'm calling it, Fred," quipped Brill. "I'm willing to keep an eye on it."

"Fine by me," Foster added.

"Just watch for allergies," Wilson, who was deathly allergic to cats, ordered.

HhHhH

Odo beamed back up to the ship and reported no sign of tribbles anywhere in the compound. "I could return as a mouse and start checking the buildings," he offered.

Sisko declined the offer. "Too dangerous. You could be stepped on. We'll have to risk beaming down closer so we can use a tricorder. Doctor, you and the chief will beam down outside the compound after dark."

HhHhH

Back on the space station, the return of the hated tribbles, even if it was in the 20th century, put Worf in a really bad mood. He planned on drowning his sorrows. Worf plopped down on a barstool. "Prune juice. Make it a large," he told Quark, who hurried over to the bar as soon as the Ferengi spied the Klingon heading over.

"Right away." Quark came back a few seconds later with the warrior's drink. He waited for Worf to take a few slugs of the beverage, and then spoke.

"They left you in charge of the station. Not up for tracking tribbles in Nazi Germany?"

"How did you know?" Worf growled. "Never mind." He took another slug.

"You know what I never understood with you Starfleet people," Quark stated as he wiped down the bar. "Why they send the entire command staff on missions. Never made sense to me. You have plenty of staff and expendable red shirts, gold shirts, whatever the color is now."

"Captain Picard usually stayed on the Enterprise during away missions. But, you do have a point." Worf took another slug. "However, since this involves deliberate time travel, need to know is kept to a minimum." Worf finished the drink. He wiped his mouth, and then leaned forward. "And if I hear of you breathing even a syllable of this information to anyone, you will have to deal with me."

"No need for threats," Quark groveled. "I never heard a word."

HhHhH

Brill and Foster brought Fred back to their barracks, where their bunkmates happily took turns holding and caressing the fluff ball.

It was now after midnight, and Brill woke up to the sound of Fred purring. Realizing Fred had not eaten anything since he found it by the scrap pile, he hopped down from his bunk. It must be hungry or thirsty. He had no potato peelings, but the least he could do was give it some water. Quietly, he filled a small bowl and brought it over to the table. He couldn't quite figure out how to get Fred to drink; after all, he still couldn't find a mouth. Afraid Fred would drown if he put him in the bowl, Brill spilled a bit of liquid by the sink and then placed Fred on top of the small puddle. He saw Fred slowly move, as if the fluff ball was happy to finally get a drink. After he felt Fred had enough water, Brill picked up the ball and moved back to his bunk.

The next morning, Brill was startled awake by movement in his bed. Throwing off the thin blanket, he stared for a bit, then quickly hopped off, in his haste, bumping into his bunkmate.

"Watch it?"

"Sorry." Brill pointed. "Look."

"Hey, everyone. Brill's a grandfather!"

"Guess Fred should be Frederica!" Someone patted Brill on the back.

"Here, I've been saving this for a special occasion, but maybe you should have it," joked another one of the men as he dug a cigar out of his footlocker and handled it to Brill.

The corporal grinned. "Thanks guys. Now what?"

"Well," Foster said in the quiet way he had. 'We inform the colonel, and then see about getting these critters something to eat," he said not unkindly.

"I'll see if I can get some more scraps after roll call," Brill said, as he began handing the infants over to the rest of the men for stroking and cuddling.

After roll call, Foster headed over to the infirmary and found Hogan and Olsen dressed and seated around a table. "Any word from London, sir?," he asked after informing the two of the newborn creatures.

"No idea what they are," he said. "They checked with an expert at the zoo, and also at Oxford. One of them is German zoologist, and he should know. So, I'm at a loss as to what to do. Klink is showing no knowledge of these things." Hogan smiled at Foster. "Good news...Wilson said we can be released in a few hours. Run by my barracks and let them know."

"That is good news, sir." Foster raised his eyebrows. "Geez, it's only been a few days since you got back. Light duty, I assume?"

Olsen laughed. "Wilson will have our hide if we he finds out we're overdoing it."

"I'll go over right away." Foster hurried over to Barracks two, leaving Hogan and Olsen to continue their card game.

HhHhH

"I recommend we all stay up here," Jadzia informed the crew. "According to our historical records, it is too dangerous to beam down at night. Too many raids. And there are maneuvers in the area."

Sisko sighed. "After the last fiasco, the last thing I need is to have you two taken captive by Germans, not to mention killed or injured by an air raid."

"I second that, Captain," said Bashir.

"Last thing I would want," added O'Brien.

"Are you sure we can wait that long?" asked Odo. "I'm willing to go back down."

Sisko shook his head. "Don't want to put you in danger, Constable. We'll wait..unless...yes, let's try something."

One of the primary complaints about time travel and its effects is why the travelers don't set out again...if they have power to control it, that is...to make things right. Even Kira conceded this point, and the group attempted to set out before Bashir and O'Brien's capture in an attempt to thwart the transport or discovery of the tribble before it happened.

Several hours later...

An exhausted and demoralized crew sat in the galley licking their wounds.

Dax shrugged. "I guess the orb won't cooperate. Maybe we can't be where we already are?"

"Didn't stop that Kliingon, Darvin," commented Odo. "There were two of him on that station at the same time."

Bashir reached into a first aid kit on the wall and popped some aspirin. "Time travel gives me a headache."

"It is often hard to understand the ways of the prophets," Kira stated. "Whatever the reasons are, we have to abide by them."

A seated Sisko looked up at his crew. "We will wait."

Several days later, the Defiant's computers showed no air raids took place anywhere near Hamelburg that day or night. After donning air corps uniforms, (just in case they were spotted) a grumbling O'Brien, accompanied by an enthusiastic Bashir, beamed down to an isolated location outside of the prison camp. It was 0300 hours, a bit damp, and the sky was overcast. Earlier that evening, a subcutaneous communications device was implanted under their skin, eliminating the chance of a communicator being discovered and confiscated. Tricorders could be set on self-destruct-just like on the old Earth TV program, Mission Impossible-joked the spy-happy Bashir, who also brought down a small medical tricorder and a replicated army medic's kit.

As the Defiant crew waited for word, they continued to work on enhancing the ship's sensors, which to everyone's distress, were still not working was well as they hoped.

"Anything, yet, Chief?" asked Bashir.

O'Brien shook his head. "Just reading humans and dogs," he reported. The two walked another half a kilometer, getting precipitously close to the camp perimeter. "The tree stump entrance is over that way," he pointed. He held out the equipment. "Wait, I'm getting something."

Bashir paused in his tracks, and looked over the chief's shoulder. "Oh, no."

O'Brien activated his communications device. "Defiant, two to beam up."

They were surrounded as soon as they rematerialzied.

"Well?" Sisko asked.

"Houston, we have a problem," was Bashir's reply.

HhHhH

"Hogan, we have a serious problem," whined Klink. The Kommandant was so distraught, he ordered the recovering American colonel to his office. "This has to be one of your tricks."

"Me, sir?" Hogan gave the Kommandant his best innocent puppy dog face. "I had nothing to do with this," he stated firmly as he stroked the animal in his hands.

"Hoogggaaan! I left my lunch on my desk for half hour and look what happened. This is my chicken sandwich and coffee!"

Putting down the animal, Hogan stepped over to the other side of the desk and picked up the lid covering Klink's food. "Hmmm." He removed the creature resting on top of the sandwich. "I swear on scout's honor and as an officer that neither I nor my men had anything whatsoever to do with this."

"They are taking over the camp." Klink walked over to the window and pulled open the shade. "Look."

Hogan followed and glanced over the compound. The creatures were everywhere, and both the guards and prisoners were neglecting their duties.

"Well, it has been a lot more peaceful here," Hogan joked. "My medic tells me my blood pressure has dropped."

"They are in our food supply and machinery. My secretary can't even type properly."

Hogan took a seat, wincing a bit as he cleared a path on Klink's desk and plopped his feet up on the furniture. He rubbed his chin for a moment.

"One of my men in Barracks 19 is a math teacher, and he's noticed that they reproduce at an exponential rate, sir. If this keeps up, within days, we'll have hundreds of thousands in the camp." Hogan removed his feet from the desk and then sat up straight. "This has to be one of your Nazi scientific experiments. there's no other explanation. Or a Gestapo test. Or a secret weapon." Without thinking, Hogan picked up one of the creatures and resumed his stroking.

"If it is, I was not informed. And what kind of Gestapo test?"

Hogan shrugged. "I have no idea, but if you don't react the way they want, who knows? I hear spring comes very late on the Russian front."

Klink began to pace. "I'll call General Burkhalter. I have no choice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darvin was the Klingon disguised as a human in the two tribble episodes of the Star trek series. He was responsible for poisoning the grain shipment in the original series, and for going back in time to kill Captain Kirk in the DS9 tribble episode.
> 
> In The Trouble of Tribbles, Kirk's lunch...chicken sandwich and coffee was ruined by the tribble infestation.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The creatures continued to multiply, and to the dismay of the local zookeeper and the veterinarian, there appeared to be no natural predators to cull the herd. Other mammals seemed to love the fur balls, in fact, the vicious guard dogs relished cuddling and playing with them. Birds just ignored them and reptiles spit them out.

Klink waited for Burkhalter to return his call. Hogan and his crew, in turns, gleefully watched the Germans lose it, while becoming concerned about possible environmental consequences...as Newkirk half joked, maybe they plan on killing us with kindness. Meanwhile, Odo beamed back down to fly over the camp, while the rest of the crew on the on the spaceship huddled together to go over their options.

"Wide stun. When everyone in camp, plus the tribbles, are unconscious, send all the tribbles into the transporter buffer."

"That will kill all the tribbles, Major. The stun I mean." noted Bashir.

"The stun won't hit anyone inside the buildings," said O'Brien. "Spacing them will kill all the tribbles...which is what we will have to do bit by bit," he added. "We can't fit them all into the buffers."

"Awww." Dax pouted.

As they argued, Odo soared over Luft Stalag 13, his keen vision taking in the sights. A bit perturbed, the constable hid behind a vacant area, and changed into a mouse. He carefully..very carefully...entered and exited several buildings. Fortunately, most of the men, guards and prisoners alike, were distracted by the tribbles. Garbage lay uncollected, games were not being played. He even spied the lead clandestine team lounging around the barracks, while the radio operator in the tunnel kept an eye on the wireless while surrounded by multiple balls of fur.

His report, once he beamed back up to the Defiant, was chilling.

"I'm wondering if these tribbles have a stronger tranquilizing effect," Odo reported.

"Or maybe the humans of this period react differently. Is that possible, Doctor?" Sisko asked.

Bashir nodded. "Human metabolisms and responses to the environment do change over time."

"We have no choice then. We have to send people in," Sisko stated.

"I can't believe we are voluntarily heading back down here," complained O'Brien, as he, Bashir, Sisko and Dax slogged through the woods surrounding the camp. An earlier air raid at a nearby factory made even this route precarious, as bombs missing their target impacted the path, which was strewn with debris and mud.

"Must have been fires in here that they put out." Bashir's replicated army boot was momentarily stuck in mud, and everyone had to pause as he pulled it out.

"All right." Sisko held up his hand. This time, the crew carried no tricorders; they couldn't take the chance of them being seen and confiscated before self-destructing. Instead, Dax and O'Brien rigged up small, less accurate sensors in fountain pens. Sisko looked at his writing implement. "It's clear."

The four approached the tree stump. Slowly, they each entered the tunnel entrance and climbed down the ladder. To their relief, the area by the ladder was empty. As they slowly made their way through the tunnel...

A signal was heard in Barracks two. Fortunately, for its inhabitants, (but not the creatures being petted, patted, fondled, stroked and cuddled) all the residents, their training kicking in, stopped immediately and jumped up.

Several grabbed weapons and headed for the bunk entrance, while the man closest to the colonel's door, opened it without knocking, and in a loud voice calmly stated that the intruder warning went off.

Within seconds, Hogan, carrying a pistol, was in the common room. "Who's down there on relief?" he asked Kinch.

"Baker," replied the radioman. He kicked a few fur balls out of the way. "You and Olsen wait here, Colonel. We'll take care of it."

Hogan nodded and hit the mechanism opening the bunk. Silently, Newkirk, followed by Kinch, LeBeau, Goldman, and Garlotti climbed down the ladder. Hearing nothing, several others followed. Hogan, Olsen, and the remaining residents waited upstairs, ready to intervene, if necessary.

As the crew from the Defiant slowly made their way through the tunnel, Bashir picked up a tribble and conducted a quick examination. Putting it back down, he whispered, "Seems like an ordinary tribble. I detected no unusual changes in my vital signs or endorphins."

They continued until they reached the area used by rescued airmen, which was empty. Shortly afterwards, they appeared in the radio room, where Baker and his loaded handgun stood facing them.

Sounds of all-clear made their way up into the barracks from the tunnels, and then there was silence.

"Got it under control," the sergeant noted calmly as he spied his comrades making their way towards him and his four prisoners, who stood, somewhat bemused, with their hands up.

"Oi, you again?" Newkirk walked over to the three naval intelligence men, and one woman, he noted happily. This time, he noticed her neck was uncovered and it was lovely. Like her three male colleagues, she was dressed in United States Air Corp clothing, hers being suitable for an Air Corps nurse.

"Tell them upstairs everything is under control and we will be up shortly with our intruders," Kinch told Goldman, who quickly headed up. "Let me guess," Kinch said as he approached the crew. "You forgot something?"

"Well, my doctor here wanted to recheck his patients," Sisko replied as he stepped forward, hands still held high. "Plus, we heard through the grapevine that you have a problem."

As the POW's spoke with Sisko, Bashir surrepticiouisly got some readings. he glanced down at his device, then slid it into his pocket.

Goldman headed up the ladder and told an anxious Hogan that everything was under control.

"Who's down there?" Hogan asked. "Otto?"

"No, sir. Our friends from naval intelligence," Goldman replied. "Four are heading up." He bent down, picked up a fur ball and began petting it.

"That's great. Just great. Why in hell are they back here? What if Klink sees them." Hogan grabbed a fur ball and did the same as Goldman. The other men in the barracks went to their bunks, and Goldman headed to the door to be a lookout. Hogan went over to the bunk and yelled down. "Send them up."

The crew from the future climbed up the ladder into the dimmed barracks. Obeying Kinch's orders, they stood at attention and stared straight ahead as an obviously annoyed Hogan walked back and forth in front of them.

"This reminds me of Kirk's ship," O'Brien, recalling the line-up after the fight on the space station, whispered to Bashir.

Finally, the colonel stopped. Bashir raised his eyebrows as the pilot reached into his pocket and pulled out a juvenile tribble. "Never mind checking us out. What do you know about these things?" Hogan demanded. as he began stroking the animal, his shoulders relaxing.

"Um, Bashir stammered. "I..."

"We've encountered them elsewhere," Sisko answered quickly. "I see you've been experiencing a baby boom, of sorts."

"Of sorts. Sit." Hogan pointed to the table, and Sisko obeyed.

Hogan waited for the other members of Sisko's team to take their seats. Given the lack of light in the barracks, for it was in the middle of the night, and the prisoners did not want the guards seeing a light, the situation felt rather eerie...on both sides.

"We have encountered them before," Sisko said quietly. "Heard they infested the camp."

"Infestation is a cruel choice of words," Carter pouted. "I rather like them."

"So does everyone else in the camp," Hogan commented. "Including Klink and his guards. He's calling in a general to see if this is an experiment. We know they aren't indigenous to the area." Hogan began tapping a drum beat on the table, smiling at his rhythm and inherited genius.

Sisko rubbed his chin and sat back in his chair. Both O'Brien and Dax glanced at him in understanding. Something is going on with these tribbles and their effect on these men, Sisko thought in alarm. They don't appear to be as on the ball as I remember. But they were on top of us down below. I need to speak to Bashir.

Hogan glanced at his watch. "You know, I think we need to table this discussion until the morning. We only have a few hours until roll call and everyone needs their sleep."

Several residents escorted the four visitors back down into the tunnels, and got them settled for the night. No one was left to guard them, an unusual situation that Sisko and the rest of the Defiant crew quickly noted.

"There's something going on here that I don't like," Sisko reported to his crew. "They aren't on top of things, at least not like they were a few days ago. Could be the tribbles." He held one in his hand, stroking it as it trilled a calming purr. But Sisko did not feel any different than he had on the space station. "Doctor?"

Bashir walked over and for a second time, ran his small diagnostic tool over an animal. He then stepped back.

"Unless the prisoners trust us," Dax commented.

"I didn't think they would leave us here unguarded," O'Brien stated. "Except for a sleepy radioman, that is."

Bashir was busy studying the readings on his instrument. He frowned. "The tribbles may be affecting the residents in this timeline. Our readings are the same, but their BP and pulse are lower than normal. Nothing to be alarmed about. I'd love a blood sample and a chance to conduct a more detailed examination."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Sisko replied. "You do have two former patients to check into."

"Do you mind if I give Sergeant Olsen here a once over?" Bashir asked the next morning. "I have a medical bag."

Hogan thought for a moment. "Use my office."

Bashir and Olsen entered Hogan's quarters. "Take a seat, Sergeant," Bashir said as he closed the door behind him.

Olsen cleared the chair of fur balls and sat down. Looking up at the doctor, he said, "I feel fine, Doc. Just a little sore, but really good, considering..." He bent down and picked up one of creatures.

"Why don't we put this aside while I examine you." Bashir grabbed the tribble and tossed it onto the lower bunk. Opening his replicated 1940's army-issued medical bag, the doctor removed a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff. He withheld a smile as he fondled the older equipment, recalling Dax's enthusiasm for the Kirk era tricorders. "Do you mind?" He pointed to Olsen's shirt.

"Oh, sure." The sergeant unbuttoned the shirt, removed it and placed it in his lap.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Bashir, using the old equipment, conducted a terciary examination. He was sure the Sergeant was fine, but it never hurt to recheck. "Scars look good," Bashir mumbled as he touched the fake lines he put into the sergeant's torso.

"Yeah, really good," Olsen replied.

"Any pain, confusion, fever?"

"It's only been a few days," Olsen reminded the doctor. "Honestly, I feel fine...except..." He glanced at the bunk.

"Except what?" Bashir noticed Olsen's eyes heading over to the tribble on the bunk. Wait, make that about five or six tribbles over by the bunk.

"Colonel Hogan told me not to say anything."

"Go on. Anything you say to me is confidential. Doctor-patient relationship." Olsen shook his head. Bashir walked over to the bunk, picked up a tribble and handed it to the sergeant. "This make you more comfortable?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it. Weird, isn't it?"

"Not really. Animals, such as dogs, are used for therapy, or at least they should be," Bashir added. He waited a moment, and sure enough, he could detect Olsen's respirations slow. The tribble also seemed to open up the sergeant's mouth, and he began to talk, a reaction Bashir found a bit alarming.

"You won't tell the colonel. I may have been hallucinating, but when I was on your ship, I think I heard some weird things."

Bashir's heart sank. Olsen was unconscious the entire time he was on the ship, except for one brief moment when Wilson identified the sergeant was there. What did he hear?

"You were very ill, sergeant. I doubt anything you heard was real. And, aside from Wilson talking to you, the rest was medical talk."

Olsen frowned. "I don't know...Maybe you're right...No, I'm sure I heard some weird stuff. And the Colonel and Wilson..." He suddenly clammed up and clutched the tribble in his hands. "Can I go now, sir?"

"In a moment. But first I would like to get a blood sample; just to check further for any signs of infection."

Olsen didn't argue and readily offered his arm to the doctor.

"That's wonderful, Sergeant. Will you please send Colonel Hogan in?"

Hogan, Sergeant Wilson, and the original discoverer of the fur balls were discussing the baby boom and the history of the discovery with the visitors, when Olsen came out and told the colonel that the doctor requested his presence in his office. "Just a quick once-over, sir. Understandable under the circumstances," explained the affable Outside Man.

"I'll come with you, sir," Wilson stood up and followed Hogan into the office. Meanwhile, Sisko, Dax and O'Brien took notes and listened intently to the POW's tale.

"They are going to cause a problem," Sisko stated.

"This?" Kinch asked. He held up a tribble. He scoffed at the captain as he tickled the fur ball under its chin, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. "I actually think these have done wonders for the camp. Guards are more easily fooled. Klink's in a good mood, although a bit perturbed because he doesn't know where these came from. And the men...well, it's been great for morale."

"Second that, mate." Newkirk grabbed a pack of cards from his pocket. "Poker anyone?"

"Oh, brother," O'Brien mumbled.

Closing the door behind them, Wilson and Hogan entered the colonel's office, Hogan taking the seat recently vacated by Olsen. Wilson sat down on the bottom bunk, quickly jumping up at the sound of a squeal. "I'm sorry little guy" He cooed. "You're all by yourself." He removed the pillow, and finding other fur balls resting there, dropped the juvenile he almost crushed.

"I'd like to do a brief examination, if you would please take off your shirt," said Bashir.

"Absolutely." Hogan quickly unbuttoned and then removed his shirt, throwing it to Wilson, who folded it neatly and placed it on the bunk.

He's awfully cooperative, Bashir noted.

"Feeling great, Doc." Hogan cracked his knuckles and leaned forward in the chair. "Thanks to you and your colleagues up there on that ship of yours."

"Up there?"

"Up there, over there, down there. Wherever, Doc," Hogan replied.

Bashir used the antique replicated tools to check over the colonel, and also palpitated Hogan as the colonel laid himself down on the bunk. There was nothing amiss, and Bashir didn't expect anything to be off. "I'd love to take a blood sample, just to double check for infection and to have a comparison. Otherwise, both you and Olsen are healing very well." While both Hogan and Wilson were distracted by a tribble, Bashir ran a quick diagnostic and reading on his miniature tool. "Right, that should give us some answers."

Wilson said. "Did that yesterday. No infection."

'Indulge the doctor, Wilson. He's just doing his job," Hogan said.

The medic shrugged.

"Anything else?" Bashir asked after he took some blood.

"Bit of fatigue, but I take it that is normal. Oh, and one more thing..." Hogan sat up. "One minute." He walked over to his desk and opened up a secret compartment. Removing a piece of paper, he brought it over to Bashir. Nodding at Wilson, he proceeded to explain. "Wilson is not a bad artist. We worked on this sketch together. Seems we both had similar hallucinations." Hogan knew that right after the strangers left camp he had decided to forget what he and the medic thought they saw. But, just yesterday, when Wilson checked on him in the barracks, the two began to discuss their experiences, and for some reason, Hogan thought it was prudent to document the picture in their heads.

Bashir glanced at the sketch, and swallowed hard. "That's very intriguing, Colonel. Something from one of those Saturday morning serials in the cinema, I venture?"

"Didn't have this picture in my head before you all arrived here, Doc." Wilson wobbled a bit as he walked over to the desk and poured himself a glass of water.

"Same." Hogan slowly walked over to the bunk and sat back down with a plop. "Both Wilson and I saw the same features on something...not human. A coincidence? I think not." He grabbed his shirt and unfolded it. Staring at it for a moment, as if he questioned the mechanism of getting dressed, he attempted to run his arm through the sleeve. it took him several tries, plus several long minutes to button it up. Standing up, he tucked it into his pants. All of this was witnessed by an alarmed Bashir. Wilson, meanwhile, was slowly sipping his water, while caressing an auburn colored tribble.

"I'll just take this to show to my captain." Bashir hurried towards the door.

"You do that, Doctor. and then tell him I will be addressing this...shortly. And that's an order." Hogan and Wilson followed the doctor into the common room.

"I'm going to look at these blood samples in the tunnel," Bashir announced. "Carter, is it okay if I use your microscope?"

"My lab is your lab, Doc." The explosives expert was seated on his bunk, playing a game of solitaire. Every so often, he would put down his cards and caress two tribbles relaxing by his pillow.

"Captain. I could really use your help down below." Before Bashir and Sisko could enter the tunnel system, a yelp could be heard coming from the bunk closest to the window. No one was watching the door, and it was one of the other residents with a bunk by a window who jumped down and announced in alarm that Schultz was heading towards their barracks.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Immediately, and to the amazement of the Starfleet officers, the barracks came to life. "No, don't go down there. Not enough time. You four just stay by that bunk," Hogan barked.

The door swung open, and Schultz slowly meandered in. He put down the tribble he was carrying, and then looked up. "Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant wants to see..." His eyes opened wide as he noticed the group of prisoners surrounding something. "What are you hiding? Back, back, back..." The sergeant made his way through the crowd and he gazed at three men who were not supposed to be here. And to make matters even worse, there was a beautiful woman in the hut. "What...What...You are not supposed to be here." He turned. "Colonel Hogan...I must report this. They left and now they are back, and who is this?" The woman offered the sergeant a kind smile and a small shrug.

Hogan walked over to the sergeant. "You must report this, Schultz? Now what would the Kommandant say when he finds out his count is off, and that you have no idea how these people got back into camp."

"But...but...they were transferred and then the Underground raided the truck and they escaped."

"Too hard to get out of Germany by themselves. Don't speak German. Figure they were safer back here." Hogan smiled and put his arm around Schultz's shoulder. "You go tell the Kommandant, and once you explain how they got back into camp under your nose and under the noses of all the guards that you command...he'll be happy to have a higher count. Of course, you won't be around to enjoy that part...once you gather your winter belongings and leave..."

"I see nothing...Colonel Hogan...I insist they are not here when I come back. And the Kommandant needs you in his office." Schultz picked up his tribble and waited at the door. Hogan followed him.

While Dax and O'Brien joined Hogan's men by the coffeepot, Bashir and Sisko went down below, ostensibly to use the microscope to examine the blood samples.

"Captain, we have a serious problem." Bashir then activated his communications device. "Bashir to Defiant."

"Defiant here."

"Can you beam up two blood samples and my diagnosis tool? Run a report and get it back to me as soon as possible."

"Affirmative," came Odo's response. "I have the signatures."

As the samples disappeared, Bashir turned to Sisko."I'll wait for the results, but I am certain that the men in this time are affected differently by the tribbles."

"I agree," said Sisko. "They don't seem to be on the ball. No one was watching the door while we were up there."

"Hogan and Wilson were almost too cooperative in their office. Tipsy, I would say. And we are in danger of having them blabbing something. And look at this." Bashir handed Sisko a piece of paper.

"Reasonable facsimile of Worf." Sisko rubbed his chin. "They seem almost pliable. But, when Schultz came in, they got into action."

"Adrenalin rush is my guess," Bashir stated. "I'll know more when I get the results back."

It was, as O'Brien and Dax later recounted, a nail-biting time as they waited for Hogan to arrive at the Kommandanteur. What if he blabs something? O'Brien thought with alarm.

Sisko and Bashir were thinking the same thing, and the captain, no longer trusting Hogan to remain quiet, did the only thing he could do in the circumstances. "We need a diversion. Sisko to Defiant."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Major, we need a diversion. Something to get everyone's attention. Outside the camp."

"Understood."

Hogan, sans Schultz, sauntered into the building, and grinned at Hilda. The secretary's desk was covered with fur balls, but she was engaged in some heavy-duty typing when Hogan tapped her on the shoulder.

"Good morning, Colonel Hogan," she said as she turned away from her machine.

Hogan glanced at the waste-basket by her feet. It was full of crumpled up papers. "Bad day for typing?" he asked.

"Yes." she sighed. "Not sure why. Just keep making lots of mistakes," she muttered.

Hogan gave her a peck on her head and then walked over to Klink's door, opening it without knocking.

"You wanted to see me, Kommandant?"

The Kommandant's desk was covered with paperwork. His pickelhaub and treasured cigar box sat on the floor next to him. Fur balls of various sizes and colors took up residence all over the office.

"Look at all the paperwork, Hogan. I can't get it done. And it's all your fault!"

"My fault? What did I do?" Hogan shifted some papers and perched on the corner of the desk. He didn't bother looking at any of the papers, or make any attempt to read them upside down. For some reason, he just didn't feel like it today. After stifling a yawn, he repeated, "What did I do?"

"I don't know..." Klink put his head in his hands. "I can't concentrate. The words are running together. And I have a camp overrun by strange animals no one has ever seen or heard of...although, I will admit, they are nice to have around."

"I agree." Hogan hopped off and grabbed a tawny colored specimen. He gave it a stroke before handing it to Klink. "Here sir, this will make you feel better."

"Speaking of which, how are you and Sergeant Olsen feeling?" Klink decided to scrap the paperwork...he was sick of bookkeeping anyway, and he swept the papers onto the floor.

"Not bad, not bad at all. In fact the doctor rechecked..."

At that, everyone listening to the coffee pot, well not everyone, but Dax and O'Brien, leaned forward and held their breath...

A huge bang was heard; The buildings shook, and then for several seconds, there was silence.

The men in the barracks snapped out of their stupor and ran outside. They were quickly followed by everyone in Hogan's office. Hogan and Klink also stopped their conversation in midstream and headed into the compound, where they found prisoners and guards alike running pell mell.

"SchuuuullZZZZ!"

"Here, Kommandant!" The sergeant huffed and puffed as he jogged, stopping in front of the Klink and Hogan.

"Are we under attack?" Klink asked.

"We wouldn't attack a POW camp," Hogan snapped.

In the melee, no one noticed the Defiant crew gathering together and heading back into the barracks.

Sisko was grinning. "Diversion," he stated.

"Just in the nick of time. Colonel Hogan was about to say something about a doctor," O'Brien informed everyone.

Langenscheidt rushed over to where Klink, Hogan and Schultz were standing. They could all see smoke out in the distance.

"Tower guards report something hit a small line of trees beyond the perimeter. Maybe an errant piece of artillery," the corporal reported.

"Thank you, Corporal. Schultz gather a team and send them out to investigate. Report back to me by radio." Klink looked over to the gates, which to his surprise, were opening. A staff car drove through and stopped in the middle of the compound.

"General Burkhalter," Hogan stated solemnly. "Wonder if someone was aiming for him, or if it was just a mistake." He stepped back, and seeing LeBeau heading his way, he walked over,. "LeBeau, have Kinch find out what that was. Check with the Underground and contacts in town."

"Oui, mon colonel." LeBeau hurried off and Hogan stepped back towards the car where Klink was now speaking with the general.

"I'm glad you aren't hurt, General."

"I know, Klink. That could have been my car. In fact, someone may have been gunning for me." The general looked at the Kommandant with his usual disdain, and then noticed the unfamiliar creatures; from a distance he thought they resembled the tumbleweeds he always saw in American westerns. But these weren't rolling around the camp. The creatures covering almost every inch of the compound remained still. He could hear a trill or purring sound emanating from them, and many of the residents, guards and POW's alike, were holding them as well. Only the guard dogs seemed disinterested. In the background, he spied the Englander, Newkirk...one of Hogan's staff, juggling several of the creatures. Burkhalter bent down and picked one up.

"This...this is what you called me about, Klink?" he bellowed.

"Yes, yes. General. You see, they reproduced very rapidly. We don't know why, and they are literally taking over the camp." Klink reached into his pocket-he hid a juvenile in there-and gave it a small squeeze. This makes a good stress ball, he thought, as he smiled at the general.

"Maybe they're born pregnant," Hogan joked.

"Inside, Klink," ordered the general. Hogan headed back to the barracks and right into his office, where the coffeepot was already set up.

The two German officers walked into the building, the general smiling at Hilda as he passed her desk. The general's arrival seemed to help Hilda's secretarial skills, and her completed work was piled nicely on the desk corner as she sat with her hands folded in front of her. Klink and Burkhalter entered Klink's domain, and the general immediately took a chair.

"We were wondering if you knew where these came from, General. According to the zoo, they aren't indigenous to the area."

So, Klink checked as well, Hogan thought. Calmly he sat down, and leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. Now comfortable, he reached down and picked up a larger fur ball, and began stroking the animal.

"It must be an experiment," Klink stated to Burkhalter, who was nicely relaxing with two fur balls in his lap. "Hoped you could enlighten us; after all, you are the one normally sending all sorts of weapons, scientists etc., etc., to my camp."

"Where did Klink get some chutzpah all of a sudden?" asked Newkirk. The men in the room began to laugh.

"This is not an experiment, Klink," countered the general. "At least not one that I am aware of...we do not make animals out of thin air. It has to be those mad scientists in the SS or maybe the Gestapo. My bet is the SS. Looks like they tried to cross a hedgehog with a Pomeranian. But why?" Burkhalter yawned. Leaning forward in his chair, he placed the two animals on Klink's desk. I should take some of these with me. My wife would like a pet. They are relaxing, like a cat, but without the attitude. Perhaps my sister and niece..."

The comment about the cat garnered peals of laughter from the men surrounding the coffee pot.

"We can't let him leave with any of these animals, Colonel." Sisko, the only member of the Defiant in Hogan's office, spoke up as things were going from bad to worse. Now the men were acting drunk.

"And my brother-in-law's sister and her children..."

"Oh?" Hogan put his head on his hands.

"My gardener's wife and little Fritz."

"This has to be stopped, Colonel."

Hogan looked up at Sisko.

"My housekeeper, the cook...Oh...Eva up in the mountains. You know how our Fuehrer loves animals, Don't you Klink?"

"Of course I do, General," The Kommandant replied, the lack of enthusiasm obvious in his tone.

I shall take some to the Goebbels' children, and playmates for Blondi."

Hogan stood up and slammed the table, making everyone jump. "This has to be stopped. Now. No one is taking my fur balls out of camp and giving them to those...those..."

"Monsters?" LeBeau finished Hogan's sentence.

"Right, LeBeau."

As he left the office, he was almost bowled over by Saunders. "Pardon me, sir. But Hochstetter just rolled into camp."

While the POW's were listening into the conversation in Hogan's office, and were then diverted by the Gestapo Major's appearance, Bashir, O'Brien and Dax took the opportunity to beam back up to the Defiant. The only one in the tunnels at this point was Kinch, and he was busy pushing tribbles off his desk while trying to reach members of the Underground to see what the caused the explosion.

Bashir went over to sickbay and waited for the results from the blood work. Finally, a ding from the computer alerted everyone and they all stood over Bashir's shoulder as he interpreted the results.

Biting his lip, he continued reading, issuing a few sighs, and uh uhs, until finally the chief could take it no longer. "Julian, what's with the uh, uhs and oh, ohs?"

The doctor swung around in his chair. "Right. As far as I can tell, and these records are primitive...The 20th century brains are reacting a bit differently to the tribbles. We would experience a lowering of blood pressure...slight, mind you, and a very slight increase in serotonin and dopamine. They've done studies. Here, you can see a much larger increase. Plus, it's as if the subjects are almost drunk. A loosening of the tongue is not unexpected. They are more relaxed and not as efficient."

"We need to let the captain know," O'Brien stated.

Over a communications link, Bashir explained his findings to Sisko. "But there is some good news. When cortisol levels increase, just slightly, the affects of the tribbles seem to be counteracted."

"I can already see that, Doctor." The barracks emptied when Hochstetter rolled in, and Sisko was alone in the barracks. "It does seem when there could be a crisis, their adrenaline does kick in and they go back to normal. But, otherwise, their tongues are very loose. And, that could lead to a bad situation. And who knows how long the effect of the adrenaline lasts." Sisko paused and thought for a moment. "Doctor, Chief. Beam back down. Dax, work with Odo and the major on how to get rid of the tribbles." Sisko said as saw the bunk entrance open. "Tunnels are clear." He quickly turned to Kinch, who looked at him quizzically. "Everyone is outside," Sisko pointed. "Someone named Hochstetter rolled into camp."

"We have no idea who caused that explosion," Kinch told Sisko.

"Shouldn't you report that to Colonel Hogan?" asked the captain.

'Um, yes…you are correct." Kinch shook his head as if he were trying to clear it of cobwebs, picked up a tribble and began heading for the door. He paused and then handed it to Sisko. A few moments later, Sisko's three crewmen entered the hut from the buck entrance and joined Sisko by the window.

"Should we blend in with the prisoners, and see what's going on?" O'Brien asked.

Sisko nodded. "Just you, Chief. Doctor…let's figure out a plan."

The sight of Hochstetter's staff car immediately put Hogan on alert. Hochstetter just had that certain way about him that made everyone believe their day was about to be ruined, he thought. Although, he wondered, he didn't feel as sharp as usual. Chalking that up to his recent brush with death, Hogan met both the general and Klink coming out of the Kommandanteur, and with the two Germans, approached the car.

Hochstetter opened his door and stepped out. Looking down at the ground, he quickly kicked several fur balls off to side, and then stopped in front of the hood. Burkhalter, Klink, and a smiling Hogan approached the Gestapo major.

"Good morning, Major." Hogan said.

"What are these things doing here?" the major yelled.

"That's a great question, Hochstetter," Burkhalter stated calmly. He was not going to let the man's appearance ruin his day, and his plans to share his pets with the top brass in Germany.

"They are taking over my camp, Major," Klink whined as he picked one up. "Is this one of your secret experiments?" He asked as he stroked the animal.

"The Gestapo doesn't experiment," Hochstetter sneered. "We just take action. Quickly." He withdrew his gun and was about to fire at one of the animals, when Burkhalter grabbed Hochstetter's arm.

"Don't. They are harmless," he stated.

"Mostly harmless," Hogan added. "The Kommandant is right. They are swamping the camp. But killing isn't the answer," he noted, neglecting the irony of the statement in the middle of the POW camp, in the middle of a war, started by his hosts.

O'Brien, unnoticed by the guards and prisoners, continued to sidle up closer to the confrontation. Thinking quickly, he set his tricorder disguised as a fountain pen to advanced hearing and recording.

"See, Major." Hogan picked up a tribble and handed it to Hochstetter.

Immediately, the animal began squealing and shaking. He quickly dropped it. "Bah." Hochstetter dropped the fur ball as he stepped back.

"He doesn't like you, Major," said Schultz, tsking. "I wonder why?"

"Well what do you know," O'Brien muttered under his breath. "The Gestapo guy's a Klingon."

"A what?"asked a prisoner standing next to him.

"Um, nothing. Just a saying where I come from. You can't trust anyone who doesn't like animals," O'Brien said to change the subject.

The prisoner stroked his tribble. "That's absolutely right."

"Hogan. I'm sure you had something to do with this."

"Oh, seriously, Major." Hogan began to laugh. The rest of the crowd within earshot joined in.

'That's ridiculous, Hochstetter." Burkhalter, deftly maneuvering around a new pile of fluff, stepped forward. "Your obsession with this man has reached a new threshold. As if Hogan could actually do all the things you have accused him of, much less drop in a new species of animal out of thin air."

Klink, wiping a tear from his eye, stepped forward and saluted Burkhalter. "Thank you, General."

"Don't mention it, Klink."

"Major, there has never been a successful escape from this camp, nor any successful animal husbandry."

Hochstetter raised his shoulders and let out a scream. "Klink. I wasn't talking about escapes or the sabotage or anything else…I'm talking about Hogan and these, these, creatures…." He picked up a squealing animal and threw it the colonel.

Hogan's hand eye coordination, to O'Brien's relief, was still top-notch and the colonel deftly caught the tribble. The colonel held it close to his chest, stroking it and speaking to it softly. Soon, the rest of the agitated group did the same with other animals.

At the back of the pack of men, Newkirk, Carter and Olsen watched the proceedings.

"That Hochstetter is going to have a stroke if he doesn't calm down," Carter said with some concern.

"Or Burkhalter will arrest him and throw him into a padded room," Olsen stated.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer fella," Newkirk retorted as he watched Klink, Burkhalter and Hochstetter walk over to the Kommandanteur. "Say, gents. How 'bout we leave the major a nice going away present."

"Sure, buddy. What do you have in mind?" Carter asked.

As Kinch stopped Hogan to give him the report from the Underground, O'Brien extricated himself from the crowd and ran toward Barracks two before Hogan and his men could return.

Sisko and Bashir looked up at O'Brien as he entered the common room, closing the door behind him.

"Quickly…there was a near riot when Hochstetter-he's that Gestapo agent always gunning for Hogan- almost started shooting at the tribbles. He thinks Hogan is behind this…And Burkhalter and Klink are acting like long-lost buddies. Seems the tribbles are having a weird effect on them as well, Captain. In addition, the weirdest thing is, they squealed at Hochstetter.

"Hochstetter's a Klingon?" Bashir asked. "Should I run a scan on him?"

"I hope you are joking." Sisko glared at the doctor, who shrugged and grinned.

"There's always an anomaly somewhere," Bashir said. At that moment, Hogan, LeBeau and Kinch entered the hut and without checking in, headed right for the office to listen in on Klink, Hochstetter and Burkhalter.

"Did you two come up with anything while I was gone," O'Brien whispered.

"Let's head below," Sisko stated. The three found a secluded spot in the tunnels, now teaming with more tribbles. "We have no idea what to do with the tribbles," Sisko said. "But, regarding their effect on the men in camp, the doctor has a plan."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Doctor Bashir explained his plan to the rest of the crew. "I can synthesize cortisol on the Defiant, which I can give to Hogan and Olsen via an injection. And then we can get it into the water supply."

"That will take some time," O'Brien warned. "And someone is bound to spill the beans."

"I may be able to convince other POW's to be inoculated. They're not thinking straight. I'll think of something," Bashir replied.

"Good. But we have to keep working on getting rid of these animals. You two head up to the Defiant. I'll hold down the fort here," Sisko ordered.

HhHhH

Before the three German officers could enter Klink's office, a grumbling Schultz and Langenscheidt had to literally remove every fur ball. Hochstetter refused to help if any were in there.

Hogan and his men listened in as the three Germans made multiple calls in an attempt to find out the animals' origination.

"Plausible deniability, Hochstetter," Burkhalter stated as he finished the latest call. He had spoken with everyone from Hitler's personal physician to Mussolini, and the accusations thrown back at him…just because…made his blood boil and his heart race. He sat up and shook his head. For some reason, he felt a bit more alert.

Hochstetter felt as irascible as ever. "Yes, I know…The SS is continuing to deny everything. So, my bet is this is their doing."

"And their point? And why my camp?" Klink whined as he tried to see if there were any stray fur balls beneath his desk. Seeing nothing, he sighed.

Hochstetter growled at Klink and threw his arms up in the air. "I don't care, and I don't know what you can do with these creatures. I'd shoot them all."

"Now, Major, that's not only cruel and inhuman, but impossible. We can't keep up with reproduction."

"Then, evacuate the camp, General. You are in control of the prisoners and the camps. Send them all to Luft Stalag 5. Bomb this camp and bulldoze the entire thing to the ground." Hochstetter turned and headed for the door. "Except for Hogan and his posse. Leave them to me. I'll deal with them."

HhHhH

Hearing the threat from Hochstetter, Hogan sprung into action. "Well, we can't have that," he calmly stated. Putting down the tawny fur ball he was stroking, he and the other listeners left the room.

Sisko was still in the common room, and at the sound of the prisoners returning, he turned and raised an eyebrow.

"You." Hogan pointed. "The Gestapo is threatening to evacuate the camp, firebomb the entire complex to kill our pets, and transfer everyone to another camp. Do something."

While the three Germans were ruminating over the camp wide pest problem, Newkirk, Carter and Olsen were busy leaving Hochstetter a going away present. The three stumbled into the hut, laughing.

"We got Hochstetter good, didn't we, Andrew?" Newkirk's arm was draped around his friend's shoulder.

"A good going away present." Carter offered everyone a goofy grin.

"What are you talking about? Hogan asked.

"His car," giggled Olsen. "Critters. In the trunk."

Sisko's thoughts quickly turned to this latest development. He was the only Federation crew member here, and unable to call for assistance, he turned, "We can't let these things out of camp." He opened the door and sprinted towards the car.

"Colonel, what are we going to do?" LeBeau asked.

"Follow him," Hogan ordered.

Shoving tribbles out of the way, Sisko ran, coming to a sliding halt at Hochstetter's staff car.

Klink, Burkhalter, and the Gestapo major were standing in front of the driver's door.

Hogan, LeBeau and several other prisoners were several steps behind Sisko.

Sisko walked right up to the three Germans. Klink and Burkhalter stepped back. Fearlessly, Sisko stood, towering over the Gestapo agent. "Major. It is major, isn't it?"

Hochstetter looked up at the unfamiliar POW. "Klink, what is this man doing here?" he demanded, shuddering as a brown fur ball came flying past the car. It was caught by one of the guards, who gave it a pat, and stuck it in his pocket.

"Klink, this place is a loony bin. And you didn't answer my question." Angrily, Hochstetter reached for his door.

"He's a prisoner." Klink yawned.

"Stupid question," Burkhalter mumbled.

"You can't leave," Sisko said.

"Hogan, control your men," Hochstetter ordered. "I can leave if and when I want to….And you will pay for this…all of it."

Hogan felt an adrenaline rush. He now couldn't quite recall why it was imperative for the major to stay, but if this ally from Naval intelligence said so, then was it for him to argue the point?

"You can't leave because…" He scrunched up his face, trying to recall the events leading to him rushing out of the hut. "I'm losing it," he whispered to LeBeau.

"The critters," the corporal whispered. "In the trunk."

"Oh, yeah." Suddenly it all came back. "You can't leave because you are removing top-secret weaponry from the camp. Isn't' that right, sirs?" He looked at Burkhalter and Klink.

"Work with me, here," he mouthed to the Kommandant and the general.

Sisko sidled over to Burkhalter and whispered, "in the trunk."

"That's right, Hochstetter. Top secret." Burkhalter walked over to the major and as Sisko stepped aside, he stood face to face, or face to chest with the Gestapo officer, if he wanted to be specific. "This is not a Gestapo project. It is SS, and you are absconding with the evidence." Burkhalter looked at Hogan, who nodded. "I can bring you up on charges."

"Charges? What in heaven's name are you talking about?" Hochstetter looked in the car, which was empty. He then walked around to the trunk and bending down, released the latch.

It was amazing that the trunk did not pop up on its own, as Hochstetter was immediately flung onto the ground by the never-ending wave of tribbles pouring out of the car, not unlike the slow erosion of a dam that finally bursts.

The Gestapo major, his arms flailing, attempted to push away the swarm of squealing animals.

Schultz, observing from the sidelines, hurried over, and not afraid of the fur balls, tried to help the major, asking, "what can I do?"

"Get these off me," Hochstetter screamed. "And someone close that lid!"

This is an odd sense of déjà vu, Sisko thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Bashir coming towards him. The doctor met his commander a few yards away from the car.

"This has got to be a side-effect of the temporal anomaly, Captain, or otherwise, some deity has an awfully weird sense of humor," Bashir noted as he gazed upon the chaotic scene.

"All we're missing is a dead tribble with a bomb," Sisko noted. "I take it you have some good news, Doctor?"

"Indeed. I have injections that will help get some of our friends here back on track. In addition, Odo will morph into something useful and get it into the water supply. Although, once the tribbles are removed, the effects should wear off in a few days, more quickly if there is a crisis."

Well, removing the tribbles is the crisis," Sisko said as he rubbed his chin.

Hochstetter, stewing over the indignity of being pummeled by an SS experiment gone wild, left the camp and headed back to headquarters.

"Odo to Captain Sisko."

"Go ahead, Constable."

"I've examined the water tower." Sisko could hear an audible sigh coming from the changeling. "It's full of drowned tribbles."

"Have the Defiant transport them out of there and send them into space."

"Understood. Once that is done, I can drop in the doctor's medication."

"This is really getting out of hand. Check outside the perimeter. I'm going to inspect the camp; get a feeling as to how the rank and file are doing, and then I'll call for a beam up." Sisko was concerned about loopy POW's eagerly discussing things that shouldn't be discussed with loopy guards. He began to take a walk.

Once Hochstetter left camp, Burkhalter and Klink, their antagonism curtailed, headed back to the Kommandanteur for hot cocoa and commiseration on which color fur balls would make the best pets. Bashir walked into Barracks 2 and found an angry LeBeau confronting his bunkmates, while Hogan looked on.

"They are in my food now, Mon Colonel. They," he pointed to the bemused men hanging out on the bunks, "didn't clear the vermin out properly. Look..." He lifted the lid off a pot...it was full of purring fur balls, munching on potatoes. LeBeau then pointed to the table where he had left a repast in process. It was covered with the creatures.

Hogan shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to do, LeBeau. They're everywhere." Sighing, He clapped. "Okay, all of you...clear out the hut. We are all eating in the mess hall." He then looked at Bashir. "You and your fancy, secret unit. Any suggestions?" He picked up an engorged tribble and tossed it to Saunders, who opened the door and tossed it outside. The animal was caught by a shocked Schultz.

'What do you want, Schultz?" asked Newkirk.

The sergeant sniffed. "It's usually the time when LeBeau is making something delicious?"

'Nothing to bribe you with today, Schultz." Carter pointed. "They got into the food supply."

"Oh, that is bad."

"Sad." Kinch shook his head, as he grabbed a pile of creatures, and carried them outside. "They'll get back in," he mumbled, as he dropped them on the ground and walked back in.

"I think we all need to have a drink of water, and then think about this calmly." Bashir piped up. "And close the door."

"Who are you again?" Schultz asked, confused.

"Remember, the medic from last week?" said Olsen.

Schultz titled his head in the manner of a confused dog.

"Colonel, about those vitamin shots I mentioned, "Bashir stated. He hadn't mentioned them yet, but everyone was now so confused, he figured it didn't matter. "For you and Olsen, and anyone else...it will definitely help with the malnutrition. I even have enough for you, big guy." he patted Schultz on the stomach. Bashir pulled out his replicated 1940's syringe, and the vial of medication. "Why don't we all line up in the colonel's office." Obediently, the men did as they were told.

While Odo checked the area outside of camp, a concerned Sisko, navigating through piles of tribbles, moved throughout the compound. A small group of prisoners and guards were nonchalantly attempting to clear the animals from the food supply. The captain made a mental note to replicate extra food for the camp when they eventually left the area. Near the fence line, and close to a guard tower, Sisko could make out a noise that sounded like a saw. Looking up, he realized the guard, his gun trained on the compound, was not visible. Underneath the tower stood another guard. Looking around, he noticed he was gathering a crowd.

"What's going on?" asked an American sergeant.

A German corporal, holding a smaller shepherd on a leash-Sisko recalled he was one of the friendly, tame guards-looked up. "The guard tower is infested," the German said with a smile. "They are sawing a hole in the floor, so they can clear out the critters. Pieter cannot do his job properly. There is no room to stand." He bent down and patted his dog.

"Aww, we don't need a guard in the guard tower, Langenscheidt. You know we aren't going anywhere or causing any trouble."

The corporal laughed. "That's what you want us to believe, Sergeant McMahon."

Sisko cringed as the small section of tower floor gave way. Wait for it, Sisko thought. Sure enough, tribble after tribble fell through the hole, landing on the the hapless guard. That's two repeat scenes from Kirk's scrape with these tribbles in one time travel episode. Sisko left the gathering and made his way back to the barracks.

HhHhH

"I think that will do it, "said a triumphant, O'Brien, floating away from his work station.

"Never thought you could jury-rig industrial sized replicators from scratch, Chief," Kira said.

"Well, sometimes you need to take a bit from here to there. It's worth living in colder temperatures and less gravity if we can solve this problem." He tapped his communicator. "O'Brien to Sisko."

"Go ahead, Chief."

"I've managed to solve the problem of transporting the tribbles."

"Good. Odo, Bashir and I will beam up."

O'Brien hung on to a handle on the bulkhead so he wouldn't float up to the ceiling while he spoke to the captain. "So, as you know, our replicators are like mini transporters. We don't have enough buffer space in the main transporter. But, since these are very simple organisms, we can use the molecular distribution system in the replicators to store their signatures for a short amount of time."

Dax smiled. "In English, Benjamin, it looks like we have a solution to our problem."

"Not quite. How are we supposed to transport the tribbles up to the ship without hundreds of POWs and guards noticing? We have to get them out of the camp."

HhHhH

"We have to get them out of the camp," Hogan stated firmly as he leaned on Klink's desk. There were again fur balls in his office, and they were piled in the corner by the credenza. Boy, that vitamin shot the doctor gave me really helped, Hogan thought. Although it is weird that it worked so fast. At least I'm thinking straight. Indeed, he was. Just a short time ago, both he and Olsen, and the rest of the men in his barracks came out of a daze he rightly attributed to the effect the fur balls were having on everyone in camp. He also realized that, slowly, the rest of the men and the German guards and staff were beginning to act in a normal manner.

Burkhalter was still in camp, and he idly tossed an animal up and down in his hand. As he watched, he observed Hogan and Klink. The American officer was clearly taking charge of the unusual situation. The general agreed that the animals needed to be removed. But how to do that? And what would be done with them once they were gone? Well, that was another story. Once the problem was resolved, Burkhalter planned to get to the bottom of this weird experiment. .

"It's like one of those old science fiction movies I used to see on Saturday mornings," Hogan stated. "Except instead of a scary monster taking over the town, these are cute. But they're just as deadly."

Schultz entered the office through the open door. "If there are only a few of them and they stayed that way," Schultz said quietly, "they wouldn't be so bad"

"Schultz. Shut up," said Klink, his head in his hands. "Why me? Why this camp? Why do they always pick this camp to show off their experiments?"

Outside, a group of guards and Hogan's staff were supervising the prisoners as they attempted to corral the creatures and stack them in the compound. It was a very hard task.

"I found one in my footlocker," said Newklrk.

"That's not too bad, said Brill, the poor soldier who found the first fur ball. "I just cleared out the latrine." He looked at the pile and frowned, "I am sorry I picked this thing up."

"It's not your fault," said Kinch. "They would have started reproducing one way or the other. I think the food started it off and there are plenty of potato peelings lying around."

"Not to mention they are born pregnant. Obviously," said. Carter. "Boy, I don't want anything bad to happen to these things," he commented as he stroked a fur ball before tossing it into one of the large piles scattered throughout camp. The creatures' purring sound could be heard yards away. Prisoners assigned as nursery crews were responsible for corralling newly born creatures and incorporating them into the mound, while guards and their dogs patrolled the interior perimeter of the camp, sniffing out wayward balls of fluff.

Hogan stood quietly on the side of the compound, his arms crossed across his chest, taking in the sight.

"This has to be the weirdest mission you've ever commanded, Colonel Hogan."

Hogan turned and found himself facing the commander of the secret Naval unit standing beside him. As usual, the man resonated calm and command presence.

"How are you and your men feeling?" Sisko asked.

"As if a shade went up on a window," Hogan replied. "I've always worked better in a crisis. And we certainly have one. Must have been those shots." He decided not to ask the man for more information. "But, what is even more of a surprise, Captain, is that everyone else is slowly coming out of it. Even the Germans. Any longer and someone was bound to spill the beans."

"Maybe you're all allergic to the dander, or something." Sisko shrugged. "But I'm glad to hear that."

"Or something." Hogan stared at the captain for a moment. "General Burkhalter is looking into this. I take a dim view of experimentation on my men; and he wasn't happy either. The key is, once we've corralled these things, what do we do then? I can get them out of camp...convince Klink to get a construction unit here with a bulldozer, and take them somewhere far away from a population center. But it's an ongoing issue, as they keep reproducing." He turned and plopped down on a bench. Removing his crush cap, Hogan ran his fingers through his hair. He looked up at Sisko. "We have to do something quick, before the Gestapo sets them on fire, and bulldozes the camp."

Sisko noted to himself that despite the crisis, no one in the camp wished the tribbles any harm. He set that thought aside for the time being, although he would bring that up to the doctor, and then spoke.

"Dealing with Klink is not necessary, Colonel Hogan. We came in here ready to deal with this. My superiors have come up with a plan. We just need a bit of your help." He put his arm around Hogan's shoulder and whispered into his ear.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hogan, his men, and the Defiant crew walked over to the barracks, and worked on Sisko's plan to remove the tribbles.

"Combat engineers," Hogan stated. "There's a unit right outside of Hamelburg." He then nodded and smiled. "Yes, that can work. And I know the right person to get those orders."

"General Kinchmeyer, sir?" Kinch, leaning up against the bunk, had a clue as to where this plan was heading.

"Exactly." Hogan stood up and went to work; the Defiant crew swept aside by the colonel's fabrication. "Kinch, call the platoon as General Kinchmeyer, and give them a heads up. Tell them it's top secret and we are using our own personnel; and then type up the orders. Get us three large unarmored bulldozers, and some trucks. Newkirk, take those two down below and get them into engineering uniforms." He pointed to Bashir and O'Brien. "And get one for yourself. Carter, you'll go as Kinchmeyer's personal representative in case of an issue. Olsen, take Steinberg from Barracks 4. He worked in construction and would know how to maneuver the bulldozers. That's six of you. Kinch stay by the phone, just in case."

"All right you two gents. Come with me." Newkirk hurried over to the bunk entrance, while Olsen left the barracks to find Steinberg.

"I actually think this may be fun," Bashir mentioned to O'Brien, as they put on the German uniforms. "It's like playing construction worker on the holodeck."

"Except with the safeties off," O'Brien reminded the doctor.

HhHhH

As the camp personnel continued to pile up the fur balls, a more alert guard in one of the towers called the office and reported a convoy of construction equipment heading towards camp.

"A construction crew? I didn't order a construction crew," Klink said.

"Neither did I, Klink," Burkhalter said. Both officers hurriedly left the Kommandanteur, and headed towards the entrance. Sure enough, a long line of construction equipment, bulldozers to be exact, was lined up outside the gate. O'Brien and Bashir, dressed as German engineers, hopped down from the first two pieces of equipment. Bashir addressed the group in fluent German. Steinberg was at the helm of the third bulldozer, while Newkirk, Carter and Olsen handled the trucks.

"We were ordered by a General to empty the camp of an infestation and take them, um, away from here." Bashir was fully enjoying himself. If he was enjoying himself, O'Brien was in complete heaven. He just hoped the two of them wouldn't cause an accident.

Burkhalter and Klink did not seriously care, but they were curious.

"Which General?" Burkhalter demanded.

"Um, Kinchmeyer, sir. He told me, Kinchmeyer." He handed Burkhalter an envelope.

While Burkhalter and Klink looked at the orders, Carter quickly left his truck and, his face down, entered the camp. Hogan, spotting the sergeant, went over to Carter and whispered, "any issues?"

"No, it was a piece of pie, sir."

Hogan didn't bother correcting Carter. "Good, get back into your truck."

"It is General Kinchmeyer. Let them in." Burkhalter stepped back as the monster equipment came to life and the convoy entered the compound. "But I will call."

"Time cannot wait; they keep expanding," Bashir shouted as he maneuvered his dozer towards the first pile.

The camp population stood and watched as the dozers scooped up mounds of fur balls and piled them into the trucks. The trucks then left the camp, depositing the fur balls in the designated area, and returned for more. Odo and Dax stood nearby and guarded the piles outside of camp, while inside the camp, a small group of prisoners continued to search buildings and assorted hiding places, removing them as quickly as possible.

Up on the Defiant, Kira used repaired and augmented sensors to locate hidden tribbles and transported them into the buffers, once they made sure no humans were nearby.

As the tedious process continued...

"It's you..." Schultz pointed at one of the dozers. He grabbed Hogan's sleeve. "Colonel Hogan, I know those men."

He pointed at Sisko. "Your men. His men. They were here, and now they are...and why are Newkirk and Carter driving trucks? Colonel Hogan, this is not allowed!"

Hogan, shrugged. "It's who, Schultz? What men?" He pulled out a bar of chocolate and handed it to Schultz. "Don't get apoplectic. They had to get a day job. Things are tight around here. The war, you know..."

"I don't want to know. I don't wish to know." Picking up a fur ball, and giving it a stroke, he handed it to Hogan, and then scurried off to the Kommandanteur, where he found General Burkhalter on the phone.

"General Kinchmeyer. I'm fine, How are you? Good. A quick question. What? Yes, they are here...you did? Wait...no. Here are the written orders. No, there is no problem. And you will get to the bottom of the experiment? I understand. Heil Hitler."

Burkhalter handed the phone to Klink, who placed it in its receiver.

"What did he say, General?" Klink asked.

He heard about our infestation, and he is handling it." Burkhalter nodded. "He always seems be on top of things."

"But General, where are they sending the fur balls?"

"The Russian Front."

It took all day; but by nightfall, using eyesight and sensors, the Defiant crew was confident all tribbles had been removed to the outside location and transported to the replicators' buffers. The equipment was returned to the engineering unit, and the operators beamed back up onto the ship. Sisko and Hogan were in the tunnels having a last minute briefing.

"They aren't really going to the Russian Front, are they Sisko?" a suspicious Hogan asked.

"No, not quite. But we have discovered how to handle them and their reproductive issues; and we aren't hurting them, I promise."

"Good" Hogan leaned back and rested against a wall. "They're innocent victims of this war. Lots of animals are dying." He sighed.

"I know." Sisko put a hand on the colonel's arm. "Colonel. I need to get back to my unit. I'll leave through the tunnel entrance."

Hogan nodded. "Stay safe."

"You too," Sisko responded with a smile, knowing that, tribbles or no tribbles, the group of brave POW's survived the war.

Later that day, Hogan was back to his usual self, badgering the Kommandant with ridiculous demands.

"Pool table."

"Absolutely not."

Hogan sighed. "Ping Pong tables. We have the balls, and the net."

Klink thought for a moment. "I'll grant you some wood. Your men can build a table, with supervision, of course."

"Thank you, sir. Oh, and one more thing."

"What is it Hogan," an exasperated Klink replied.

"Puppies."

Klink looked up.

"Puppies?"

"Oh, yes sir." Hogan's enthusiasm was building. "Petting animals releases endorphins. We are in a stressful situation here, sir. You bring in puppies for the men to hold, cuddle, pet...I guarantee you, they will be less ornery and bored, and the camp will run more smoothly. Might help you too, sir. And your men as well," he quickly added. "They'll have something to take care of...worry about."

Klink steepled his fingers. "Puppies?" he repeated. "This is war, Colonel Hogan. "We are not a spa."

"I hear they bring them in to universities during exam weeks," Hogan said, not sure where he heard that information. But it sure sounded reasonable.

"I will consider it. disssmissssed!"

Klink watched Hogan leave, and then he called for his secretary. "Fraulein. Do you know if there is an animal refuge in Hammelburg?"

HhHhH

"That's about done it, Captain." O'Brien and Dax were feeling pretty good about their engineering work. The thousands and thousands of tribbles threatening the timeline? Well, they were alive and safely sitting in scores of transporter buffers jury-rigged from ship parts, both replicated and borrowed. Sure, it was cold, and they had no gravity, but it was for the greater good.

"Can we successfully get us home, Chief? Then deal with them there?"

"There's never a guarantee," O'Brien replied as he floated by. At everyone's look, he quickly said, "I hope so."

Sisko nodded at Kira. "You are up, Major."

Kira left the command center and went into a conference room, where the time orb sat. She opened it...and waited. Nothing...

Disappointed, she reentered the command center and stated the obvious. "It's not working."

Sisko mulled that over. "Did you get any sense why?"

"Well, nothing has changed on board, except for the tribbles," Dax stated.

"I'm willing to keep trying for a while. Move us away from the solar system," Sisko ordered, "and we'll try again."

The ship came to a stop outside the solar system. "Go ahead, Major."

"Why don't you try, Captain?"

"All right." Sisko gave a go at the orb and attempted to send them into the future.

"I'm getting the sense the tribbles are the problem," he stated. He had a sixth sense about these things. After all, he was the emissary and had communed with the prophets. Tribbles or no tribbles, he was returning to the future. His crew and ship had to come before the animals.

Dax looked up from the sensors. "Benjamin, we can tow the replicator-transporters in a tractor beam. See if that works."

"Chief?"

"It's worth a try, Captain."

As soon as Dax and O'Brien removed the replicator-transporters holding the tribbles from the inside of the ship, they beamed them out into space. Using the tractor beam, they gathered them into a large group (after all, there were thousands and thousands of tribble molecules inside them) and held them together outside the ship. It looked like the Defiant was towing a 24th century appliance store.

Kira opened the orb. This time was different. She could feel it. The light enveloped the Bajoran's face and a sense of calm came over her even while the ship jerked.

It took a few minutes for everyone to turn off the alarms and the sensors. "Where are we, people?" Sisko asked.

"Outside our solar system...In our time, Benjamin." Dax smiled.

Sisko nodded. "Great job everyone. It will take us some time to get home, but at least the crisis is...Odo?" The changeling was checking some sensors and he was shaking his head.

"The tribbles didn't come with us, Captain."

"The tractor beam is off-line." Dax spent a few moments checking her sensors. "Odo is correct. There are no replicators or tribbles anywhere around here."

Sisko sunk into his seat, and sighed.

HhHhH

Somewhere outside our solar system: Earth year, 1968

Captain James T. Kirk took a sip of coffee, and then placed the cup on the armrest of his captain's chair. He leaned over to his right, comfortable in the familiar semi-slouched position. The bridge crew took up their usual stations, while the Enterprise's chief medical officer and chief engineer stood next to the captain. The Enterprise had just completed a time-travel mission curiously sanctioned by Starfleet. Kirk replayed his log.

"Captain's log. Using the light-speed breakaway factor, the Enterprise has moved back through time to the 20th century. We are now in extended orbit around Earth, using our ship's deflector shields to remain unobserved. Our mission – historical research. We are monitoring Earth communications to find out how our planet survived desperate problems in the year 1968." (1)

"Computer, pause log."

"Problem, Jim?" asked McCoy.

"I have to think about this. The update can wait. It's a long story."

"Despite the fact that it looks like we were supposed to be down there at that time, I'm beginning to think that time travel is not a good idea." McCoy stated.

"You may be right, Bones. I'll put my feelings in the report. Seems we always seem to be in the thick of it."

"It's not good for my engines either, Captain." Scotty was over-protective of his engines, and the entire ship for that matter. Kirk would never want anyone else in charge of the engine room.

"We are approaching the coordinates to engage the breakaway factor, Captain."

"Thank you, Sulu. Scotty..."

Scott turned to head to the exit, but was stopped in his tracks when a slight beep could be heard. It was coming from a station located to the left of the doors. The ensign on duty there stepped away. "Captain, I'm receiving some form of a signal." He frowned. "This can't be right. It appears it is emanating from a transporter or replicator, sir."

"Send it to Mr. Spock's station, Ensign."

Scott stepped back into the bridge and took his spot behind Kirk.

"Fascinating," was Spock's all too familiar reaction.

"Lieutenant, can you try boosting the signal?" he asked Uhura.

"Already working on it, Mr. Spock."

Kirk was impatient. "Haven't got all day, here. What are we reading?"

"The ensign is correct. It does appear to be some form of a signature, coming from what appears to be either replicators or transporter technology. Hidden by radiation over by that asteroid field."

"Do you have the coordinates?" Kirk asked. "It could be nothing, or something left by Mr. Seven." He paused and smiled. "We need to check this out before we go home."

Spock raised his eyebrow. "The signature is extremely faint. His benefactor may not have noticed it. Sending coordinates to the helm," Spock replied.

"Good. Engage." Kirk sat back in his chair, sipped his coffee and waited.

Multiple pieces of equipment filled the view screen. It appeared as if the Enterprise had wandered into an appliance graveyard filled with replicated equipment cobbled together with spare parts.

"Captain, our sensors indicate that some of these elements are not familiar." Spock turned and peered into his sensor. "There appears to be some form of a transporter-like signature."

"Really? Can I have a look?" Scotty hurried over to Spock's station and peered into the hood. The bridge became very quiet, with everyone waiting for more information, or the next order. "Mr. Spock is right, Captain. I can't tell from here what, if anything, is in there."

"Bring them into the cargo hold. Mr. Spock. Bones, Scotty...you're with me." He looked at the Red Shirt standing by the turbolift and addressed the ensign. "Bring a security squad as well."

A short while later, all of the floating replicators were corralled and brought into the cargo hold. Everyone remained silent while Scotty, his transporter chief, and other engineers intently studied the cargo. Spock also went over the equipment with his tricorder, while a medical team stood by.

Scotty conferred with his team and then looked up. "Captain, there are transporter signatures in the buffer. My best guess is that they have been there for close to twenty years or more. Some of this equipment is definitely from Starfleet."

"What are they doing here?" Kirk paced back and forth. "Are they from our time...Could they be experimental? Or from the future?"

"Whatever is in there, they've been trapped." Spock declared. "On purpose or accidentally...that I do not know. And from what period? That I also do not know, although I can guess it may be from the future."

"What will be the consequences if we release them?" Kirk wondered out-loud. "We will face another Khan?"

"Or villains from Krypton like in the movie Superman 2?" offered one of the security guards.

"This is not the phantom zone, ensign." Spock stated. "And Zod is fictional."

Kirk chuckled. "Spock. I didn't know you knew something of Earth's 20th century pop culture...when it comes to movies, that is."

"Indeed." Spock said. "It is educational."

"Jim." McCoy grabbed Kirk's arm. "These could be people trapped in a buffer for a good reason. They need our help."

"I agree with the doctor, Captain," Scotty said. "I can't determine for sure who is in there, but they are living organisms. We can put a force field around the equipment. I think I can figure out how to work the machines. I volunteer to go in there."

Kirk sighed. "We have to help whoever is in there. Place a force field around the replicators-transporters or whatever they are. Take security in with you. Just in case we set gremlins loose."

Scotty knew the signatures appeared the same in the all machinery, so he picked one at random. Once the force field was in place, he went to work. After several minutes, he nodded at the crew waiting outside. The security team stepped back, phasers drawn and set on stun. "Here it goes," Scotty said. He hit a few buttons. The crew heard a familiar noise and then the molecules and atoms stored in the buffers materialized on the floor of the cargo bay.

Everyone's mouth hung open in shock. Finally Scotty spoke. "Captain...we just unleashed a great pile of tribble."

The end

(1) Star Trek (original series) Assignment Earth. Season two, episode 26

In the TNG episode, Relics, the Enterprise discovers a crashed ship, holding the transporter signatures of two men. One man is lost, but one survives...he is Captain Scott, from Kirk's Enterprise. The two men were in the buffer for 75 years. I will admit, this episode helped me with the ending, although I always had the intention of bringing the story full circle...back to Kirk's era.

a/n thanks for reading! I put this story up quickly, so if you notice any typos, mistakes etc, please let me know so I can fix them. Happy New Year!

Sue (Snooky)

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Trouble with Tribbles, Star Trek: The Original Series, Season 2, Episode 15, and Trials and Tribble-ations, Season 5, episode 6
> 
> 2) This is a direct quote from the episode.
> 
> 3) The Predestination Paradox, posted in 2009 by Snooky-9093 (in crossover section)
> 
> Blumchen is my guard dog OC. My back history of Olsen as shown in my story "The Outside Man," gives him a German mother. And a childhood spent in Germany.


End file.
